It's a Wonderful Life, Stalag Thirteen Style
by ColHogan
Summary: Based on It's a Wonderful Life.Carter blames himself when Newkirk is seriously injured.He tells himself the team would be better off without him,and wishes he hadn't been born.Can his Guardian Angel convince him otherwise? *Minor changes made to chap 5.*
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: This Christmas story is based on my favorite holiday movie It's a Wonderful Life. The Guardian Angel named Larry is my creation. I do not own Hogan's Heroes or any of it's characters. But I do own the DVD collection and enjoy watching them. I hope this meets Challenge # 256. And a Merry Christmas or Happy Hanukkah to all.**

**It's a Wonderful Life, Stalag Thirteen Style**

**Chapter 1---Carter**

Technical Sergeant Andrew Carter couldn't have felt worse than if he had caused the injury himself; yet, he figured in someway he had. At least that's what he thought anyway. He figured he was lucky nobody was killed. As he sat by the lower bunk on which his best friend RAF Corporal Peter Newkirk lay unconscious, Carter could only recall what led up to his friend now being in this condition with two chances of ever waking up and living; slim and none according to Wilson. Newkirk, said Wilson, was in a coma.

"_Carter," Colonel Robert Hogan, Senior POW officer of Stalag 13 and leader of the Hammelburg underground, code name Papa Bear, looked at his young sergeant and demolitions expert with concern. "Are you sure about these bombs? The last batch we used didn't work as well. They kept exploding before they were suppose to."_

_Carter grinned broadly. "No problem with these, boy, I mean Colonel. I don't know what was wrong with the last batch. London must've sent us a batch of duds."_

_Hogan still looked doubtful. "I hope you're right. We can't afford another problem. We might not get another chance at that bridge again."_

"_Don't worry, Gov'nor," Newkirk said. "Me mate Carter and I checked these ruddy things ourselves. Not a dud in the bunch. Should work like a charm."_

_Hogan seemed to relax at what Newkirk said. But inside, he was still worried. London had sent orders to destroy the Wyndmere Bridge which the Krauts were using to secretly deliver guns and ammunition to their troops. The first time he and his men had set explosives to destroy the bridge, and returned to camp, they gathered at the barracks window and waited for the night sky to light up in brilliant colors from the explosions. After fifteen minutes, Hogan checked his watch. Still nothing. _

"_Gentlemen, I think either somebody found and deactivated our explosives, or we got stuck with duds," Hogan sighed after closing the barracks window and leaning against the posts supporting the upper bunk and wrapping his arms around himself. He shook his head in frustration with pursed lips. "Damn!" he muttered._

_French Corporal Louis LeBeau and negro Sergeant James Kinchloe, known as Kinch to his friends, stared at Carter and shook their heads._

"_Carter, didn't you look at those explosives when they came in?" asked LeBeau. "At least if you had you could have saved us the time of having gone out there planting duds."_

"_I'm sorry," Carter replied with hands jammed in his jacket pockets and head down. "I didn't have a chance. I just assumed they were good."_

"_Next time check first," said Kinch._

"_All right, knock it off," Hogan ordered. "It's not Carter's fault. London sent us duds is all. Kinch, get on the horn and let London know what happened and that they need to send us some more explosives. We need more than what we currently have if we're gonna blow that bridge_."

"_Yes, sir," Kinch replied heading back down below to the radio room._

_Hogan looked at Carter. "Carter, go below and check the explosives we have left and make sure they're okay. And I mean really check this time. Okay?"_

"_Yes, sir, Colonel," Carter answered forlornly. "Right away." He soon followed Kinch below._

Carter again stared at Newkirk's unconscious form. "C'mon and wake up, Newkirk. I really am sorry about what happened. I didn't mean to have you get hurt. I really didn't. Please wake up." The young sergeant looked up when he felt a hand on his shoulder. Looking up, he saw the concerned face of Colonel Hogan. Hogan saw the pain in Carter's eyes. "Colonel, how come he doesn't wake up? It's been hours. What happens if he doesn't ever wake up?"

"I don't know, Carter," Hogan said gently, knowing the guilt his young Sergeant felt. "I wish I had an answer for you but I don't. All we can do is wait."

"It's all my fault, Colonel," Carter replied looking at Newkirk now. "I don't know what I'm gonna to do if he doesn't wake up. Newkirk's my very best friend."

Hogan sighed and wrapped his arms around himself. "I know he is. Carter, why don't you lay down and rest for awhile. One of us can sit with Newkirk. You've been sitting with him for hours. Besides, Wilson said it be hours, days, weeks or possibly never. You're exhausted."

"I can't rest, Colonel. Not until Newkirk wakes up. I don't care if I have to sit here day and night. I want my face to be the first one he sees when he wakes up. And I'll spend the rest of the war making it up to him for injuring him."

"Carter…"

"Please, Colonel. Just let me stay with Newkirk. I'm okay. Really," Carter replied looking up at his commander over his shoulder.

Hogan sighed wearily. He was not in the mood to argue. "Okay, Carter. Just for a little while longer. Then one of us will relieve you so you can rest."

"Yes, sir. Thanks, Colonel." Carter turned back and stared at his friend. Hogan could only shake his head and walk away, his heart breaking for both his men; not knowing what he could do to ease Carter's mind and help Newkirk.

Not hearing Hogan leave, Carter resumed thinking how he was to blame.

_About two hours after Kinch returned upstairs, Carter returned upstairs and knocked on Hogan's door. He opened the door after hearing the Colonel bid him to enter. Hogan was seated at his desk with some papers in front of him. He looked up as the door opened._

"_Yes, Carter?"_

"_I finished checking the explosives we have left, Colonel. Each one is okay."_

"_Good. Kinch told me London is gonna make a drop at 2300 hours tomorrow night of new explosives for us. "I want you and Kinch to got out tomorrow night, get them and bring them here. Then, two days from today we'll try again to destroy that bridge."_

"_Yes, sir." _

"_Okay. You might as well get some sleep. You and Kinch have a busy night tomorrow."_

"_Yes, sir. Goodnight, sir."_

"_Goodnight, Carter," Hogan replied returning to his paperwork._

_As Carter opened the door and started to leave, he paused in the doorway and looked back. "Colonel?"_

_Hogan lifted his head. He looked exhausted to the young sergeant. "Did you want something?"_

_Carter shuffled his feet uncomfortably and chewed his lower lip. "I'm sorry, Colonel. I didn't mean…"_

_Hogan smiled warmly. "I know you are, Carter. And don't worry about it. It could've happened to anyone."_

"_Yeah but, it always seems to happen to me." He shrugged. "I don't know why you even keep me on the team, Colonel."_

"_You want to know why I keep you on the team, Carter?" Hogan replied laying down his pen. "I'll tell you. I keep you on my team because you're the best at what you do. That's why."_

_A small smile crept onto the sergeant's face. "I am? Gee, thanks Colonel. Goodnight."_

"_Good night, Carter." Hogan watched Carter close the door to his small room. Then, alone again, Hogan picked up his pen and resumed going over his papers._

Carter tried to stifle a large yawn without much success. He was so tired he could barely keep his eyes open. Cupping his chin in one hand with his elbow on his knee, Carter continued watching Newkirk.

_Two days later, Hogan, Carter, LeBeau, Newkirk and Kinch all went back out to the bridge and set the explosives in the same places they had set the originals previously. Hogan had Carter and Newkirk check each one and both had found the batch in good condition. But Hogan had been through this long enough to know that whenever he thought there would be nothing to worry about_ _there was usually something for him to worry about. And he couldn't shake this feeling tonight._

_After setting the explosives, Hogan indicated to his men it was time to head back to camp before the fireworks. They were halfway back to Stalag 13 when they were spotted by a German patrol._

"_Run!" Hogan shouted as he took off. The men split up and headed in different directions with Hogan and Kinch heading north, Newkirk and Carter west, and LeBeau straight ahead. Bullets began whizzing past their heads, with Hogan and his team returning fire. Each duo lost sight of each other when suddenly the night sky lit up in brilliant colors as the bridge disappeared. Hogan and Kinch hit the ground from the force of the explosion. Glancing at each other, they briefly exchanged grins. However, the gunshots had ceased and all was now quiet. Getting to their feet, yet keeping alert, Kinch and Hogan circled back and Hogan made a bird whistling noise and then waited. Moments later, a whistling noise was heard in response, and LeBeau emerged from behind some bushes. _

"_Have you seen Newkirk or Carter?" Hogan asked him, worried._

"_Non, mon Colonel," LeBeau answered. _

_Glancing at Kinch, Hogan motioned for him and LeBeau to follow as they backtracked to where the bridge use to be and stumbled across the bodies of three guards. Hogan and Kinch checked and all were dead. Hogan saw they had not been shot, but were killed either by the force of the explosion as they were too close to the bridge when it blew, or from debris from the bridge._

_A rustling noise was suddenly heard from the bushes close by. Hogan and his men froze, prepared to use their weapons. Then a whistling was heard; Hogan returned the whistle. He breathed a silent sigh of relief when Carter emerged from the bushes covered with dust from the explosion._

"_Carter, where's Newkirk?" asked a now worried Hogan._

"_I'm not sure, Colonel. He and I split up and last time I saw him he was heading that way." Carter was pointing in a direction that paralleled the bridge. "I think he was trying to get them…" motioning with his head towards the bodies, "…to follow him in the direction of the bridge to give the rest of us a chance to get away."_

"_Damn!" Hogan cursed. "Let's go." He led the way in the direction of the burning embers in the search of their missing team member. After about ninety minutes of searching, Hogan was frustrated as they had found nothing. He looked at his watch. They had two hours before morning roll call and they were risking capture by staying out here. And it would take at least an hour to get back to camp. But he didn't want to leave one of his men out here whether he be dead or alive. "We're gonna have to head back to camp," he said grimly._

"_Colonel, we can't leave Newkirk out here!" cried Carter._

"_Non, mon Colonel!" echoed LeBeau. "Pierre would not leave one of us behind especially if we were alive or injured."_

"_We don't even know if he is alive or injured," Hogan said softly. His decision was tearing him apart. "But we're risking getting caught if we stay here much longer or missing roll call which is in two hours and we have an hour's walk ahead of us. I'm sorry. We'll come back out after evening roll call and search again." He saw the distraught looks on the men's faces which mirrored his own feelings. "Look, I understand how you all feel. I don't want to leave Newkirk out here either but if we miss roll call, Klink will think we've escaped and then Hochstetter will get involved. Now let's go."_

_The men knew the Colonel was right. They would be of no help to Newkirk if they were captured. So reluctantly, they fell in behind Kinch and the Colonel and started to leave when Carter became excited when he glanced to his right. "Colonel! I think I see Newkirk!"_

_Hogan and Kinch turned and looked where Carter was pointing. Hurrying forward, a body in dark clothing could be seen partially buried under debris. Hogan dropped to his knees beside Newkirk and pressed two fingers against his neck. "He's alive! Let's uncover him and get out of here!"_

Carter shook himself awake when he realized he had momentarily closed his eyes and nodded off. He glanced again at his friend lying so still and pale on the bottom bunk. He sighed wearily. "Please, Newkirk. Please open your eyes. I need you to open your eyes and look at me. C'mon, Newkirk. Please?" For a brief moment Carter thought his friend was about to open his eyes, but soon realized it was just wanting it so badly he was willing to believe the tricks his exhausted mind was playing. Rubbing his tired eyes, Carter went back to looking at his friend.

_They had unearthed Newkirk in about thirty minutes and had managed to carry him back to camp and get him in the barracks. Hogan then sent LeBeau to bring back Wilson who, after a thorough examination, told the men that although Newkirk has sustained no visible injuries, he had apparently struck his head on something and was in a coma from which he couldn't be sure whether he would wake up._

_Carter was visibly stunned and shaken. "Coma?" he asked sadly._

"_I'm afraid so," Wilson explained grimly. "And the worst part is that whether or not he lives will depend on how soon he awakens, if he does."_

"_You, you mean Newkirk could be in a coma forever?"_

_Wilson didn't answer right away. He let out a deep breath. "I'm sorry, Carter. But all we can do is wait."_

Carter shook himself awake again. He was having trouble keeping his eyes open. He yawned loudly and looked at his friend again. "None of this would've happened if it hadn't been for me. Colonel Hogan and the others would be better off without me," Carter admitted quietly. "Boy, I wish I had never even been born!"

* * *

"Carter. Carter wake up!" the voice said softly.

"Ummmm," Carter mumbled not wanting to open his eyes. "Go away."

"Carter, you have to wake up! C'mon!"

Blinking his eyes, Carter slowly sat up and after squeezing his eyes rubbed them. Finally awake, he looked over at the lower bunk and saw it was empty. He started to get up, but a hand on his shoulder stopped him. "Where's Newkirk?" he asked, frightened. He looked around, expecting to see Colonel Hogan and instead stared wide-eyed at the stranger standing before him, his hand on Carter's shoulder. "Who are you?" he asked with mouth hanging open.

The man cupped Carter's chin in his hand and closed the young Sergeant's mouth. "I'm Larry. I'm your Guardian Angel."

"My what?!"

"Your Guardian Angel."

Carter looked the strange little man up and down. He was wearing an outfit similar to Carter's and had graying hair and brown eyes. He also wore a faded leather bomber jacket similar to Carter's except it was newer-looking. He also had a kindly, pleasant face. "Don't you believe I'm your Guardian Angel, Carter?"

"Oh I get it. This is some kind of joke the guys are playing on me."

"It's no joke, Carter. I really am your Guardian Angel."

Carter smirked. "Sure you are," he said sarcastically. "You know how I know you're not real?"

"How?"

"Because angels have wings and you don't have any. That's how I know."

Larry sighed. He knew this wasn't going to be easy when he was given the assignment. "That's true, Carter, that angels have wings. But I haven't earned mine yet. See, I have to do a good deed before I can earn my wings."

"Right," said Carter, still not believing what he was hearing. "If what you say is true, then what are you doing here at Stalag 13?"

"Don't you know, Carter? You are my good deed."

"Me? Why am I your good deed? What makes me so important?"

"Well, let's see. You said your friends would be better off without you. And that you wish you hadn't been born. I'm here to show you how wrong you are."

Okay," Carter said crossing his legs and folding his arms. "Let's say I buy all this. Then show me where Newkirk is."

Larry smiled affectionately. "All in good time, Carter. All in good time." He looked at his watch. "Oh dear. It's almost time for roll call. We must hurry if we don't want to be late. The Kommandant wouldn't like it." Larry jumped up, grabbed Carter's arm and hurried him out the barracks door where Carter noticed other prisoners from the barracks beginning to stand in formation. Larry stood beside Carter in Kinch's place. The young sergeant noticed nobody seemed to see Larry.

"Hey," said Carter. "You're standing in Kinch's place."

"Shhhh," whispered Larry. "Here comes the Kommandant and the Sergeant-of-the-Guard."

Standing in the back row, Carter turned and looked expecting to see Klink and Schultz. Instead, he saw a tall Sergeant who was very powerfully built with a mean expression on his face walking beside a tall, slightly handsome Kommandant who had an arrogant, angry look on his face. Carter's eyes widened as he glanced at Larry.

"Who are those guys?" he asked. "Where's Klink and Schultz?"

"Oh they're not here anymore," Larry replied quietly.

"Not here? Where'd they go?"

"They were both sent to the Russian front and are missing-in-action."

The Kommandant walked up and down the front row of prisoners with the guard behind him. He saw the Kommandant grin wickedly at a man in the front row.

"Hey, who are you?" Carter asked the man beside him. The man looked oddly familiar yet unrecognizable at the same time. "I don't remember seeing you here before." The man ignored Carter and seem to try to stand at attention.

"Hey, I'm talking to you. It's rude to ignore somebody when they're talking to you."

Larry tapped Carter on the shoulder causing the young man to looked around. "I suggest you be quiet," he said calmly.

"What d'ya mean I should be quiet? I'm not talking loudly."

"Simple. The Kommandant won't like it."

Carter rolled his eyes. "So what? We always talk at roll call."

Larry remained calm. "Not now you don't."

Carter shook his head to clear any cobwebs he thought he had. "I must've hit my head in the explosion when we blew that bridge. That's it. I hit my head."

Larry looked amused. "Bridge? What bridge? You didn't blow up any bridge."

Carter's eyes narrowed. "What are you talking about what bridge? We blew up the Wyndmere bridge!"

Larry simply shook his head. "The Wyndmere bridge still stands. The Germans are getting good use of it I'm afraid. Oh, just so you know. The man beside you is Sergeant Olsen."

"Sergeant Olsen?! **That's **Sergeant Olsen?! I didn't recognize him. He…" He didn't finish as the Kommandant stood in front of him now.

"Did you have something to say, Sergeant?" the Kommandant sneered. He glanced back at his sergeant and smirked. "Well, do you?"

"Yes, sir, I mean no sir," said Carter. Something about this man and the guard frightened him.

"I didn't think so. Just keep in mind there is no talking at roll call in case you get any ideas. I'd hate to put you in the cooler again. Especially after you just spent sixty days there for talking during roll call."

"Yes, sir."

The Kommandant and guard walked past him and back to the front row. After the prisoners were dismissed, Carter sided up to Larry. "How come you didn't tell me I just spent sixty days in the cooler?"

Larry smiled. "You didn't ask me. Do you believe me now?"

"Why were Klink and Schultz sent to the Russian front?"

"All in good time, Carter. These things will all be explained in time. Trust me."

"Looks like I don't have too much choice."

"You really don't as a matter of fact."

"Okay. Let's just say for now I go along with this. First thing, explain to me where Kinch is."

Larry smiled. "Your wish is my command."


	2. Chapter 2Life at Stalag 13

**Chapter 2---Kinch**

After roll call, Carter followed Larry back inside the barracks and over to where the familiar double bunk was. Larry motioned for Carter to strike the hidden mechanism which he did. Carter looked around the barracks and suddenly realized the men were unrecognizable for the most part; at least the ones he thought looked familiar. He then spotted a small man who, to him, looked vaguely familiar. Carter stepped forward, ignoring the sound of the bunk rising and ladder dropping.

"Is that LeBeau?" he asked the angel.

Larry looked around. "I can't say right now. Everything will be revealed to you in it's own time. It cannot be revealed out of order."

Carter continued looking around. "Hey, I just thought of something. I haven't seen Colonel Hogan anywhere. Not even at roll call. Where is he?"

"All in good time, Carter. Now come with me. You wanted to see your friend Kinch." Larry stepped over the bed frame and climbed down the ladder with Carter behind him. When Carter reached the bottom, he stood beside Larry.

"Y'know, something still bothers me," Carter said. The angel looked at him, puzzled.

"And what would that be, Carter?"

"Well, what do I call you? I mean, what's your name?"

"You can call me Larry if you'd like. Or Sergeant Angel."

"Okay. But only if you call me Andrew."

"If you wish, Andrew. But as far as anybody knowing I'm an actual angel, that's between you and me. Agreed?"

Carter shrugged. "Okay." He chuckled. "That's funny. Sergeant Larry Angel." He chuckled again. The angel, smiling, simply shook his head.

"I'm sorry," Carter said. "I didn't mean to laugh. Now where's Kinch?"

Larry smiled. "Follow me, Andrew." He turned and headed down the tunnels until they came to a cement wall. "After you, Andrew."

"Where are we?"

"Outside what I think you call the cooler." He saw the shocked look on Carter's face. "But you should know that he won't know you."

"What d'ya mean Kinch won't know me? Of course he knows me."

"But Andrew Carter was never born, so you're just some fellow prisoner. He won't know who you are."

Getting down on his knees, Carter pushed the cement block forward slowly. It made a grinding sound as it moved across the floor. When the opening was wide enough, Carter crawled through it and into a cell; Larry followed behind him. The young Sergeant helped the angel to his feet as his eyes fell on a huddled mass lying on the cot in the corner with it's back to him.

"Kinch?" Carter called out taking a step forward.

The huddled mass turned it's head and looked over it's shoulder. "Who's there?" he said as he slowly started to sit up.

Carter's mouth hung open. Kinch looked awful. He was extremely thin to the point of almost being what would be considered a walking skeleton causing his clothes to hang loosely on him like sacks. His hair was graying along with the long beard streaked with gray. His eyes were sunken in and appeared bright and his face was gaunt. He also appeared ill.

"Who are you?" Kinch said in a weak and shaky voice.

"Kinch! My God! What happened to you?!" Carter rushed forward as Kinch, trying to get shakily to his feet, staggered and was about to fall to the floor when Carter caught him in his arms and helped him sit back down on the bed. Then, the young sergeant knelt in front of him. He took both of Kinch's hands in his and bit his lower lip at the sight of his friend's bony trembling hands. Kinch turned his head and coughed causing obvious distress which showed on his face He winced as he coughed.

"Boy am I glad to see a friendly face," Kinch wheezed, looking into Carter's moist eyes brimming with tears. "I've been in here so long I've forgotten what everybody looks like. I'm sorry. But I don't know your name."

"Kinch, never mind me. How long have you been in here? What happened? Why hasn't Colonel Hogan gotten you out of here?"

"Wait," Kinch held up one shaky hand and smiled weakly. "One question at a time. As far as how long I've been in the cooler. I think at least three months. Right after Kommandant Scheider first took over after Klink and Schultz were sent to the Russian front. I don't think he liked my skin color. Him and that Sergeant Baldry. The Kommandant says I'll be in here until the war ends or until I die, whichever comes first. As far as why the Colonel hasn't gotten me out…" Kinch shrugged and coughed again. "I haven't seen the Colonel since the day after I was locked up in here. I don't know where he is. Have you seen him? If you have, is he all right? And what about the others? Are they okay?" Kinch's eyes looked pained and it broke Carter's heart.

Carter looked look in the direction of the tunnel opening where Larry stood and watched, allowing the two friends their privacy. He saw the pained expression in Carter's eyes and didn't respond. Not because he couldn't, but because information about Hogan was not to be disclosed until the right time and not before. Those were the orders.

"Ah, Joseph," Larry said just above a whisper looking up at the ceiling, but actually looking beyond the ceiling. "Can't I just deviate a little from your orders?" Suddenly, the sound of loud thunder that only he could hear echoed in the small prison cell. Larry sighed wearily. "I understand, Joseph. Divulge things to Andrew in the order in which they are to be divulged. I understand. Just thought I'd ask."

Taking Larry's silence to mean he couldn't help Kinch, Carter swallowed. His eyes met those of Kinch again.

"Everybody's fine from what I can tell," Carter lied. "I haven't seen the Colonel yet. But when I do I'll make sure he gets you out of here. I give you my word."

"I believe you," Kinch was so weak and sick. He sighed wearily and allowed a weak smile to appear. "Things got so bad after Klink and Schultz left. The new Kommandant and Sergeant do everything they can to harass, torture and sometimes starve the prisoners. This place now actually resembles a prison camp." Kinch saw Carter smile faintly at his attempt at dry humor.

"Have you been checked out by Wilson yet?"

Kinch shook his head. "I haven't seen Wilson since last month." He coughed again and winced as this last coughing fit caused him to shake. "With Scheider and Baldry here Hochstetter doesn't come around hardly anymore. I suppose that's one good thing."

The sound of a door slamming outside the cell was heard. Kinch and Carter looked around nervously but heard nothing else. Carter looked at his friend.

"Kinch, when was the last time you had anything to eat?"

Kinch's eyes narrowed as he had to think. "I think maybe three days ago. Could be longer. I'm not even sure anymore."

Releasing his friend's hands, Carter checked his pockets and found only two candy bars in them. He pressed them into Kinch's hands. "It's all I have right now. But I promise I'll try to get you something."

Kinch wiped a tear away from his face and put the chocolate bars inside his inner jacket pocket. He patted the pocket. "Thanks, man. I mean it. But you'd better leave now. The guard comes by every so often to see if I'm still alive. You can't let him find you here. You don't want to be found in here. Especially with me."

The sound of a door slamming again was heard. This time approaching footsteps were heard and getting closer. Kinch looked up and then at Carter.

"Get out of here! Now!" he said in a low voice. "Go!"

Carter got up and after Larry crawled out the opening, Carter glanced back at Kinch, smiled weakly and gave him a 'thumbs up' sign before crawling out the opening. Together, he and Larry pulled the cement block back into place just in time. Five minutes later a guard stood glaring at Kinch through the bars with a smirk on his face. After about a minute of staring, the guard turned and walked away leaving a defeated Kinch sitting on his bed with a bowed head and clasped trembling hands between his knees.

* * *

Carter stormed through the tunnel with Larry running to keep up with him. Reaching what use to be the radio room which was now nothing more than an empty tunnel, Carter turned and punched the wall repeatedly until he had no more strength in his arm. He started to cry before he felt a pair of hands on his shoulders. Carter jerked away, wiping the tears from his face.

"How could you let Kinch suffer like that?!" he shouted angrily. "Kinch is the kindest, most gentle man I've ever known."

Larry sighed. "I didn't let him suffer, Andrew. That was the new Kommandant and Sergeant-of-the-Guard who are making him suffer. And all because Klink and Schultz were not here to prevent it from happening."

Carter whirled around, rage in his dark eyes. "But he's sick and malnourished. He needs to see a doctor. And why hasn't Colonel Hogan gotten him out of the cooler?"

Larry sighed. "I'm afraid I can't answer that, Andrew. "At least not right now."

Seeing Larry looking sadly at him, Carter chewed his lower lip before he asked the one question he didn't want to ask. "Is he going to die?"

Larry looked at Carter grimly and hung his head. "Yes," he said softly. "In fact, he won't make it through the end of the month."

Carter didn't say anything; he just slowly nodded. "At least he won't suffer anymore." Wiping his face with both hands, Carter took a deep breath to steady himself and slowly looked around the barren radio room. "Larry, what happened down here? I mean, this used to be our radio room but now there's nothing in here. Can you at least tell me that?"

Larry looked skyward again. A gentle rumble of thunder only heard by him echoed in the tunnel. "I understand, Joseph." He looked at Carter who looked upward before turning his attention to the angel.

"Who are you talking to?" he asked.

"My commanding officer," Larry said. "He's permitted me to disclose this much to you. Your entire operation was discovered and everything below was destroyed. The Germans sealed all the exits except for the ones leading to your cooler because they didn't know about them. And most of the tunnels they closed off. As far as the one in the barracks above, they left that alone because they didn't care if the prisoners knew it was still there. They left it alone because with everything sealed off and destroyed, there was nowhere the prisoners could go to escape. Also, Kommandant Scheider and Sergeant Baldry keep an extremely tight rein and watch over the prisoners. Besides, nobody tries to escape anymore."

Carter was stunned as he took in all the information and processed it. "I don't think I want to see anymore, Larry," he said.

"I'm afraid, Andrew, that your tour has just begun," the angel answered grimly.

"Why? What could you possibly have to show me after what I saw with Kinch."

"I thought you wanted to see what happened to your close friend Peter Newkirk?"

Carter's eyes widened. "Newkirk's alive! Where? Where is he? Can I see him? Please."

Larry gently gripped Carter's arm. "Then come with me and I'll take you to him."


	3. Chapter 3Newkirk

**Chapter 3---Newkirk**

Carter and Larry had both climbed back into the barracks and Carter struck the hidden mechanism, watching the ladder rise and the lower bunk drop over the tunnel opening. He then looked at the angel.

"Okay. Now where's Newkirk?" he asked.

"Come with me, Andrew. But you must be prepared for what you'll see. Things haven't gone well for your friend as you weren't here to keep him grounded I think you call it."

Carter paused for a long moment. "What happened to Peter?" he asked with eyes narrowing. "What did you do to him?"

"You must keep in mind that I have done nothing to any of your friends. Everything that's happened is all because you weren't here to help them. And to him you will be just another prisoner. Now, come with me. Your friend should be somewhere in the compound." The angel opened the barracks door and walked outside; Carter soon followed. The young sergeant noticed things were eerily quiet in the compound; not the usual boisterous sounds he was use to hearing. There were no footballs being tossed around; no volleyball games going on; no baseballs being hit to men with baseball mitts. There were none of the usual things the prisoners did to occupy their time. In fact, the few prisoners he saw as he walked with Larry all looked defeated, hopeless, broken, cowed. There was no spirit in anybody he saw.

"What's wrong with everybody, Larry? They all walk around like they've given up hope almost."

"That's because most of them have. And those that haven't as yet soon will. Ever since the new Kommandant arrived. I told you, he's not Klink. The men here have all suffered greatly because of him. And it all began because you weren't here."

Carter suddenly stopped when he saw something new in the compound that had never been there before and his eyes widened in horror at seeing it. The angel, noticing Carter had stopped walking, looked at the young sergeant. He saw the horror masking his face and looked in the same direction he was. What he saw standing there was of no surprise to him because he already knew it was there.

"I'm sorry you saw it, Andrew," Larry said grimly putting a hand on Carter's shoulder.

"When…when did they build that horrible thing?" he asked.

Larry sighed. "About one week after Colonel Scheider arrived. He wanted it built so the prisoners would know what waited for them should they try anything or get unruly."

"Has…has it been used?" Carter stammered nervously. He could feel the bile rising in his throat.

There, near the fence but in the area where the trees were, stood a gallows which had been erected complete with an upright frame with a crossbeam and a rope with a noose at the end. The noose right now twisted gently in the light breeze.

Larry let out a deep breath. "Too many times I'm afraid since the Colonel took over." Grabbing Carter's arm gently, the angel pulled him away so they could continue looking for Newkirk. But Carter's eyes kept looking over his shoulder at the gallows while walking in the opposite direction. He secretly wondered how many of his friends had been hanged. He wondered secretly if that was possibly why he hadn't seen Colonel Hogan. _No! I won't even think it! I won't! Colonel Hogan's alive! I know he is!_

"I think I see your friend, Andrew," Larry said, pointing near one of the higher number barracks. Carter looked where Larry was pointing. At first he didn't see him; then he saw the familiar blue uniform of the RAF. "Peter!" Carter shouted and ran towards the man who was limping badly in the opposite direction. "Peter, wait!"

Hearing his name, Newkirk stopped and turned around hopping on one leg practically to see who had called his name. Carter reached him and immediately froze at his friend's appearance.

"Newkirk? Is that really you?" he asked.

Newkirk now had a gimpy left leg and the right side of his face was horribly disfigured by a jagged scar that ran from just under his right eye to his jaw. But it was his hands that shocked Carter the most. Newkirk's fingers were gnarled and misshapen. "Did you want me for something, mate?" he asked.

For a moment Carter couldn't find his voice, so shocked was he by his friend's appearance. He swallowed the lump in his throat. "I, I just wanted to see how you were doing?"

"How does it look like I'm doing?" Newkirk's voice was harsh. Harsher than normal.

"I, please don't get mad. I just haven't seen you since…" Carter paused as he was about to say since they had blown up the bridge, but caught himself. "…since I got out of the cooler. That was a rough sixty days."

"Yeah. Well, you fared better than me, mate. And you sure as hell are faring better than Kinch." His face softened. "Hey, could you reach in me jacket pocket and get me smokes. I need a cigarette bad."

"Sure." Carter reached inside Newkirk's jacket and pulled out his pack of cigarettes and his lighter. Removing a cigarette he stuck it between Newkirk's lips and then lit it for him. He returned the cigarettes and lighter to his pocket.

"Thanks, mate. Can't do hardly anything with me hands like they are." He managed to grasp the lit cigarette between two gnarled fingers and pull it out his mouth and allowed a breath of smoke to escape.

"What happened to you, Newkirk? If you don't mind my asking that is."

"That's right. You were in the cooler when this happened to me, weren't you. Give me a minute and I'll fill you in." He managed to take a puff on his cigarette and promptly blew out the smoke. "Well, let's see now. It was just a few days after you were tossed in the cooler. Food's kinda been in short supply since the new Kraut took over from Klink. We were hungry. Hadn't had much to eat so I decided to raid the Kommandant's secret stash of steaks and other delicacies for the guys. Trouble was I was caught by that bloody Sergeant of the guard while I was busy tryin' to uh, liberate a few things. The bloody Sergeant had me hands broken sayin' that losin' the use of me hands will teach me not to steal and then he slashed me face with a straight razor."

Carter winced as he listened to Newkirk's story. "And what happened to your leg?"

"Oh that was courtesy of the Kommandant himself. He shot me in the knee. Permanently damaged me leg he did. Just to be kind, they had Wilson treat me, and then I was tossed in the cooler for thirty days." Newkirk took another drag on his cigarette. "Thought for awhile he was gonna send me to that ruddy gallows he had built."

Images of the gallows returned to Carter's mind. It pained him to imagine Newkirk being hung for trying to get food for himself and other starving prisoners. "I...I'm sorry," he said.

Newkirk took another drag on his cigarette. Then, he let the half smoked cigarette drop from his fingers and he crushed it out as best he could with his gimpy leg. "Never you mind, mate. I'm okay for now, but thanks for askin' though. So you don't need to worry. Now be a good lad and leave me be. I need to sit down and rest a bit." He turned and limped away leaving Carter staring at his receding back. He continued watching until Newkirk had disappeared into a group of other prisoners. He then hung his head and kicked at the dirt, jamming his hands into his jacket pockets. He looked around when Larry put a hand on his shoulder.

"Are you all right, Andrew?" he asked.

"Yeah, I guess so. Poor Newkirk. I can't believe what they did to him. And he looked so defeated and like he had given up."

"I said most of the prisoners here had given up or would very soon. Your friend hasn't quite given up yet. But I sense you have a question you want to ask."

"Yeah, kinda. But I don't think you'll give me an answer though."

The angel folded his arms. "Let me guess. You want to know what happened to Colonel Hogan, don't you?"

"Yeah. How'd you know that's what I was going to ask?"

"I'm an angel, remember?" Larry looked up at the sky again. A loud boom of thunder was heard by him. "I understand, Joseph. I wasn't going to say anything. Don't worry." He smiled faintly at Carter. "I'm sorry, Andrew. But Joseph says I can't reveal what happened to Colonel Hogan until the proper time and not before. I'm sorry."

"Somehow I figured you'd say that," Carter said grimly. "Larry, what'll happen to Newkirk? Are you allowed to tell me?"

"That I am permitted to tell you. Your friend eventually will commit suicide because he loses all hope. You weren't here to keep him from that. You were the one who kept him grounded by being his best friend and challenging him. You even let him pick on you and yell at you just so he could release the tension he would feel. He needed that. But as you were never born, he didn't have that friendship. And you've seen what happened to him. He gives up all hope within the next thirty days."

Carter covered his face with one hand and shook his head. "I can't believe any of this." He suddenly looked up at the angel. "This is all some kind of evil trick by the Nazis. It has to be! You're no Guardian Angel; you're some kind of trick of Major Hochstetter's to try and get me to spill the beans about Colonel Hogan. Well it won't work! Leave me alone. I don't to hear anymore and I don't want to see you anymore!"

"Andrew…" Larry gently grabbed Carter's arm, but the young sergeant jerked his arm away.

"NO! Leave me alone! Just go away!" Carter shouted angrily. He stormed away leaving Larry standing watching him. Sighing wearily, he looked up at the heavens.

"Joseph, this is not gonna be easy. What am I suppose to do now? Of course I'll keep trying. What's that you say?" Larry suddenly heard the slight tinkle of bells. "Who just got his wings? Oh, c'mon, Joseph. Not him. His mission was easy. Yes, sir, I'll keep trying." He then took off after Carter.

Carter ran until he couldn't run anymore. He collapsed onto the bench outside barracks two and hung his head low as he gasped for breath; his hands clasped between his knees. He was startled when a hand lightly gripped his neck and squeezed. Looking up, his eyes widened when he saw Larry sitting beside him looking worried but very relaxed and not out of breath.

"How did you get here so quickly?!" Carter gasped. "There's no way you could have gotten here before me."

"I told you, Andrew. I'm an angel. I can move faster than the average person." He leaned back against the wall of the barracks and sighed. Despite being upset, Carter felt compassion for the little man claiming to be his Guardian Angel. He could see he was upset.

"What's wrong, Larry?" he asked once he was able to catch his breath.

"I'm a bit depressed. I heard from Joseph that Richard just got his wings and I'm still grounded."

"Who's Joseph? You said he was your commanding officer. But who is he? Where is he?"

Larry grinned and with a forefinger, motioned upward to the heavens above. Carter looked upward at the blue sky and puffy, white clouds. With wide eyes, he again looked at Larry. "Oh," was all he could say. He then became puzzled. "How do you know Richard just got his wings?"

Larry shifted his position on the bench so he could look directly at Carter. "Richard was an Angel first class. He had an easy mission. I'm only an Angel second class. Besides, I heard the little tinkle of bells."

Carter looked puzzled. "Bells?"

"Yep. See, when you hear the little tinkle of bells, it means an angel has gotten his wings."

Carter looked thoughtful for a long minute. "So if I understand you, you can't get your wings unless you complete your mission. Right?"

"You got it." He sighed again. "Guess I'm due to remain grounded."

Carter let out a deep breath. "Larry…"

"Yes, Andrew?"

Carter smiled. "If proving to me that my presence makes a difference, then I'll help you get your wings. But you have to do something for me if you want me to help you."

Larry now looked puzzled. "What's that?"

"Tell me where is Colonel Hogan and what's happened to him. It's not like him to not be around or to not help Newkirk or leave Kinch in the cooler to suffer. He isn't like that."

Larry shook his head sadly. "I can't do that, Carter. Not yet anyway. Remember. Everything must be disclosed in a certain order. And it's not time for you to know about Colonel Hogan. We have one more person to see first."

"Who?"

"The little man you saw in the barracks earlier. Corporal LeBeau."


	4. Chapter 4LeBeau

**Chapter 4---LeBeau**

Larry walked into the barracks followed by Carter. The young sergeant couldn't help but look around at the men with whom he had shared a portion of his life; to his disappointment, even though he was positive he knew everybody, none of them looked familiar to him. It was then his eyes fell on the closed door to Hogan's quarters. He detoured and headed for the small room. Larry, seeing the detour, didn't try to stop him. Just as Carter neared the closed door, two of the prisoners stepped in from of the door blocking his path. Carter stopped and stared at both of them. One of them he recognized from roll call as having been pointed out to be Sergeant Olsen; the other he couldn't fathom.

"What's going on?" Carter asked innocently. "I just want to see the Colonel."

"Nobody goes in there," Olsen announced menacingly. "Understand? Nobody."

"But I just want…"

"Listen, pal," the other man said heatedly, jabbing a finger in Carter's chest. "What part of nobody goes in there don't you understand?"

"Aw C'mon, guys. You both know who I am. I'm Andrew Carter. We're all friends."

The two men looked at each other. "Do you know any Andrew Carter, Richard?" asked Olsen.

The other man shook his head. "Never heard of 'im."

"Richard? Sergeant Richard Baker?" asked Carter, amazed by the sergeant's appearance. His eyes shifted to Olsen. "And you're Sergeant Olsen."

"How do you know my name? Who are you? Are you some guy Scheider planted in here?" He was starting to get angry.

"And you were talking to me during roll call," Olsen interjected.. "You know there's no talking at roll call. Especially after serving sixty days in the cooler for it."

"Look, guys, I don't know what's going on but I need to see Colonel Hogan," Carter reached for the doorknob, but was immediately shoved backward from the door by both men.

"You were told. Nobody goes in this room. So beat it!" ordered Baker, eyes flashing darkly.

Carter was about to open his mouth to protest when he felt his arm being grabbed by someone. Looking over, he noticed Larry was pulling on his arm trying to get him away from a potentially explosive situation. "C'mon, Andrew, let's go before there's trouble." But Carter jerked his arm away. "No, Larry. I want to see Colonel Hogan and find out why he hasn't done anything for Kinch and Newkirk. I need to see 'im!"

Olsen shoved Carter again. "Nobody can see the Colonel," he said loudly. Carter stared at him, speechless, but then noticed Baker clenching and unclenching his fists. And decided, for now, he'd best let things alone. "Now **beat it**!"Olsen added angrily.

"Okay, okay. Forget it," Carter surrendered holding both arms outstretched with palms facing both men. He then allowed the angel to lead him away and towards the table in the middle of the room. They both sat down. Looking around, Carter noticed the others were eying him with suspicion and mistrust.

"What's wrong with everybody here?" Carter whispered leaning forward. Larry leaned forward as well. "They act like they don't know me anymore."

"That's because they don't know you, Andrew," whispered the angel. "I told you, Andrew Carter was never born. You don't exist. You are just another of the many prisoners here who are mistrusted by those who were here when you arrived. Nobody trusts anybody here."

Carter bowed his head and shook it sadly; then looked up. "Where's LeBeau?" Carter noticed Larry turn and look in the direction of the pot-belly stove. He noticed a small man wearing an apron preparing to cook something. Carter started to his feet, but his wrist was grabbed by the angel. Carter looked at him questioningly.

"Be careful when you approach him, Andrew," the angel warned him gently. "He is not as you remember him. He is very traumatized, angry and blames everybody for his troubles."

"Nah, not LeBeau. He's a fiery little guy, but one of the nicest guys you'd ever want to know."

"Not this LeBeau. Just be prepared. He could lash out at you."

Once Carter's wrist was released, he walked over to the stove to where LeBeau was stirring something that smelled good. Looking at the Frenchman's face, Carter was surprised to see the anger, hopelessness and look of submission on his face. Noticing Carter looking at him, LeBeau's eyes glanced at him. "What the hell are you looking at?!" he sneered.

"Hey, LeBeau, take it easy. It's okay. It's me. Carter."

LeBeau chuckled. "I don't know you. You're just another mouth for me to feed."

"C'mon, LeBeau, don't act like that." Carter rested a hand on the little Frenchman's arm. He was totally unprepared when LeBeau viciously jerked his arm away and glared at Carter with no sign of recognition.

"Don't act like what?!" LeBeau snapped. "And take your filthy hands off of me, filthy swine!" he snarled. "I do nothing all day but cook for you pigs with no gratitude of any kind. I deserve better than this!"

Hey Frenchie, quit your whining will ya?" somebody shouted. "I'm tryin' to finish this letter to my girl."

LeBeau rolled his eyes in exasperation. He mumbled something under his breath which Carter assumed was a string of French obscenities. Then, he stared at Carter. "What do you want from me?"

Carter, sticking his hands in his pockets, shrugged his shoulders innocently. "I don't want anything. I just wanted to see how you were doing. I mean, being in the cooler for sixty days is a long time."

"Yeah. So? You think you're the only one's who been in the cooler? At least you didn't end up like…." he turned his head away, but Carter could've sworn he saw…a tear? LeBeau wiped at his eye.

"What is it, LeBeau? Can I help?"

Suddenly, LeBeau abruptly turned and faced him, face a deep shade of crimson. "No you cannot help me, so why don't you just get the hell away from me and leave me alone!"

Carter took a step back in surprise and held out his arms, palms forward. "It's okay, LeBeau. It's okay. There's no problem. I just wanted to say hello. I haven't seen you in awhile is all. I wanted to see how you're doin'."

"Okay. Now you've seen me and I'm alive! Now leave me alone and get the hell away from me!" LeBeau looked around the barracks. "All of you just leave me alone! I hate all of you!" With that, LeBeau purposely knocked the pot off the stove with some kind of soup spilling all over the floor." Some of the other prisoners were amused and started laughing at the little Frenchman's antics; while some were annoyed by it. And one, Olsen, was downright angry. Jumping down from his bunk, he got in LeBeau's face.

"You better clean up that mess, Frenchie," he ordered towering over LeBeau who he had backed up against the post of one of the bunks.

"Go to hell!" LeBeau hissed.

Olsen suddenly reached out and seized the Frenchman by the throat with a large hand and began to squeeze. "What'd you say, you little eel? I didn't quite hear you."

LeBeau's eyes bulged as he tried to pry Olsen's fingers from around his throat. "Yes, sir," he whimpered.

"I thought I might have misunderstood you, Frenchie," Olsen replied with a smirk. He released LeBeau who promptly went and got some clean rags and began cleaning up the spilled liquid from the floor. As he got to his knees, the Frenchman gave Carter an enraged look.

So caught by surprise at both LeBeau and Olsen's reactions, Carter started to kneel down to help LeBeau clean up the mess, but then he saw the Frenchman's eyes and decided not to help. Getting up, he was about to walk away when he was roughly grabbed by Olsen.

"Where do you think you're going?" he said with a smirk.

"I, I…" Carter stammered.

"Look, pal…" Olsen began jabbing a finger in Carter's chest. "I don't know what your name is, but you've been creating problems since you got here and we're sick of it! So, we're gonna teach you a lesson you soon won't forget." Olsen let his eyes fall on Baker and another prisoner. "Baker, Saunders, come here." The two men approached and stood before Olsen. "Richard, hold this guy upright so Saunders and I can teach him a lesson as to what we do with Kraut spies."

Baker roughly seized Carter's arms and jerked them behind his back, holding them tightly while Olsen and Saunders walked around until they stood in front of the young sergeant who now seemed very scared.

"Louie! Help me!" Carter begged. "You've got to do something!"

Not looking over his shoulder despite hearing Carter's pleas for help, the Frenchman continued wiping up the mess on the floor. "Can't you see I'm busy. Don't bother me. Besides, if it hadn't been for you, I wouldn't have to be doing this! I hope they beat you to a pulp!"

Olsen, smirking, drew back his fist when he felt his wrist grabbed suddenly. Looking, he saw the angel standing beside him, refusing to release him. "You can't do this," Larry told him. "It isn't right."

"Let go of me old man, or you'll get the same thing this guy'll be getting." But Larry refused to release his grip. Olsen's eyes shifted to Baker who promptly released Carter and roughly grabbed Larry.

"Carter, run!" Larry ordered anxiously. "Get out of here! Run!"

Carter didn't have to be told twice since he knew, being an angel, Larry could take care of himself. He bolted out the barracks door.

Baker spun Larry around and held his arms behind him tightly. Olsen drew back his fist.

"Get ready old man," Olsen said gleefully as he swung. But his fist made contact with Baker's jaw as Larry vanished before their eyes. Baker staggered backward and fell on his backside and sat, massaging his aching jaw. "Where is he?" asked Olsen, bewildered. "He was right here and then he wasn't. Where'd he go?"

* * *

Carter sat outside the barracks with his face buried in his hands. He wasn't sobbing, but was fighting the urge to. He suddenly felt a hand on his shoulder and looked around. He was stunned and yet delighted to see the angel sitting beside him, apparently uninjured with a smile on his face.

"Larry! You're all right!" Carter grabbed him by both arms. "But…but how? I don't understand."

Larry shrugged innocently. "There's nothing as an angel that I can't do," he said. "It was now I was there, and then I wasn't you could say." He chuckled. "Wish you could have seen Sergeant Olsen's reaction when his fist connected with Sergeant Baker's jaw though. I don't know who was more surprised; Sergeant Baker or Sergeant Olsen." He allowed a small laugh to emerge.

Carter suddenly became serious. "I'm glad you weren't hurt, Larry. But what happened to LeBeau? He's so, so…different from the LeBeau I know."

The angel let out a deep breath. "It relates to the fact that you were never born, and weren't here. That fact started the entire chain of events which followed. Your friend LeBeau suffered the most after the new Kommandant arrived. He didn't like men of color, the British or the French. He made your friend LeBeau his personal whipping boy so to speak. Whenever he had LeBeau cook for him and any guests he had, if something went wrong in the kitchen, LeBeau was held responsible and punished. Then he was accused by other prisoners of being a collaborator because he willingly cooked for the Germans, when in reality, he did it for the few meager privileges he got. His actions caused mistrust and suspicion in the camp of LeBeau which Scheider only fueled for amusement. He also made sure your friend was made aware of how the other prisoners felt about him. I guess you could say he played them against each other because it amused him."

Carter sighed. "Poor Louie. I've never seen him like that. So suspicious, hateful, mistrusting. It was like he was a totally different person."

"He is. You weren't here to play a part in how he worked with others.

Suddenly, Carter's eyes narrowed as something occurred to him. "I just remembered two things. Olsen and Baker wouldn't let me into Colonel Hogan's quarters. Why was that? And why did LeBeau start to say something about me not ending up like and then not finishing what he was saying?"

Larry sighed. This part of his mission was going to be the roughest for Carter and he knew it. He rested a hand on Carter's shoulder and looked him directly in the eye. "Andrew, the time has come to answer the one question you have been asking me for awhile since we met."

Carter's eyes widened. "You mean…"

"Yes, Andrew. I'm going to take you to Colonel Hogan."


	5. Chapter 5Hogan

**This chapter has a few minor changes in it.**

**Chapter 5---Hogan**

Larry, taking hold of Carter's hand tightly in his, snapped his fingers, and the duo suddenly found themselves transported from outside barracks two to a secluded area of the camp near where a grove of trees, their leaves gently swaying in the breeze, stood tall and majestic outside the fence. Larry, releasing Carter's hand, allowed the young sergeant to take some time to get his bearings. After a few minutes, Carter looked around, not sure why he was where he was.

"Why did you bring me here?" he asked, puzzled. "There's nothing here but the prisoner cemetery." Suddenly he paused as the realization washed over him, drowning him. He looked at Larry, his eyes brimming with tears. "No. Oh no. Please tell me it isn't true." He saw the angel looking down at his feet silently. Carter closed his eyes momentarily and then opened them and turning around, studied the headstones in the prisoner cemetery which was surrounded by a wire fence. There, in the front row in the corner, was a freshly dug grave with a cross made from two wooden sticks tied together forming a cross which had been stuck into the earth. Attached to the center of the wooden cross was a carved wooden eagle similar to the one Hogan wore on his shirt collar; his crush cap was resting atop the middle stick of the cross with a thumbtack pinning it in the back to keep it from being blown away.

Carter dropped to his knees in front of the grave and bowed his head. "What happened to 'im?" he stammered. "How did he die?"

"He was leading a mission to sabotage a ball-bearing plant when he discovered the explosives he had were faulty. There was no time to get more to replace them, and London wanted the plant destroyed that night. So, as the unit didn't have a demolitions expert, and the Colonel didn't want to risk endangering any of the men involved, he decided to try and make the bombs himself. He made about eight of them, Unfortunately, while he was an expert in demolitions, he didn't have the know-how to adequately make a bomb. As he put the devices in a bag to bring them along, one of them went off in his hands and killed him instantly. It was that explosion which led to the discovery of the operation."

Larry sighed and put a hand on Carter's shoulder. "After the explosion, the Germans discovered your operation as I said. They immediately dismantled your radio, sealed up all the tunnel exits, confiscated and destroyed the uniforms, records and documents you had concealed below. Because Colonel Hogan died, there was nobody to protect Colonel Klink and Sergeant Schultz. So, both of them were immediately transferred to the Russian front and are currently missing-in-action. Their other choice was to be shot for incompetence. Kommandant Scheider was brought in along with Sergeant Baldry to clean-up Stalag 13. His first order of business was the building of the gallows you saw. He decided to throw Kinch in the cooler because he dislikes African-Americans. He then cut food rations and began to torture, abuse and starve the prisoners for his own amusement. Your friend Newkirk tried to steal food for the prisoners who were starving and was caught and punished as you saw. Once he found out LeBeau was a cook, he made him his personal cook with the understanding that no matter what went wrong in the kitchen, LeBeau would be blamed and appropriately punished. After awhile, LeBeau became distrustful, cowed and angry as you saw him."

Carter raised his head and looked at Hogan's crush cap gently rocking in the breeze. "What about Baker and Olsen?" he asked, eyes fixed on the gold insignia on the cap glittering in the sunlight that shown upon it. You said Scheider disliked African-Americans."

"Scheider disliked African-Americans such as Kinch. He noticed Kinch was a highly intelligent man and considered him trouble. When he went over the personnel folders of each of the prisoners, he found Kinch to be similar to Hogan and he didn't want that type of person being a Senior POW. So, he locked him up. He didn't see Sergeant Baker as being a problem, so he offered him and Olsen special privileges if they would keep the prisoners in barracks two in line and report to him anything he felt was important. They were starving as were the other prisoners in the barracks, but whatever they got from the Kommandant they refused to share with the others. The reason they wouldn't let you inside Colonel Hogan's quarters was that they were keeping their contraband in there and didn't want anybody finding it. LeBeau knew what they were doing. But by that time he was too scared to do anything."

"My God," Carter muttered. "All this because Colonel Hogan died?" he asked.

"And Colonel Hogan died, Andrew, because you weren't here to make the explosives he needed." He sighed wearily. "In fact, remember the bridge you said you had blown up that still stands?"

"Yeah."

"It's because that bridge still stands and became important to the Nazis to transport weapons and ammunition to their troops, and greatly improved the German war effort to the point that it's quite possible Germany will win the war."

"No! That can't happen. That would mean that Colonel Hogan died for nothing. His death had no meaning."

"He died doing what he could to defeat the Nazis. But he didn't have what he needed which was a demolitions expert. If he had had one he never would have tried making the bombs himself."

"So I'm to blame for Colonel Hogan's death is what you're saying," Carter said.

"Not at all, Andrew," Larry added. "You weren't born. How could you be responsible for something when you hadn't been born. As a matter of fact, if Colonel Hogan hadn't accidentally died in that explosion…" he hesitated.

Carter's eyes narrowed as he turned his head to look over his shoulder up at the angel. "If he hadn't died in that explosion he would've what?" he asked. "What were you about to say? Something bad was going to happen to Colonel Hogan, wasn't it? Tell me. Please tell me. I have to know."

Larry sighed. "If the Colonel hadn't been accidentally been killed in the explosion, he would have died soon afterward in some other manner. You see, Carter, up until that moment, your Colonel was fortunate with the explosives. But his time on earth was short because you weren't here. Also, Scheider was very happy when he heard of the Colonel's death because he didn't feel an American officer belonged in a NONCOM camp."

"So you're saying Colonel Hogan's death was pre-determined?"

"Yes. It was his death that caused everything else to happen the way you saw it. It was a chain reaction in a manner of speaking."

Carter again looked at the crush cap and clasped his hands in front of him. "I'm sorry, Colonel. I should've been here for you. You never should've died like you did. It wasn't fair!" He swallowed the lump in his throat. "So what you're telling me is that everything I've seen is because Colonel Hogan died before his time; and that he died because I wasn't here."

"That's what I wanted you to see, Andrew. You might think your friends would be better off without you and you wished you hadn't been born. But in reality, by not being here, your friends were sentenced to death and lives of misery. It's amazing the impact one man can have by being born or not born."

"Larry, could you give me a few minutes alone. I need to talk with Colonel Hogan."

Larry gently patted Carter's shoulders before he walked a short distance away and leaned against the wall of the nearby barracks which happened to be empty. But he kept his eyes on the young sergeant.

Alone now, Carter looked at the grave. "I'm sorry, Colonel. I really am. You shouldn't have had to feel you had to make those bombs yourself because you didn't have anybody with the knowledge to make them. I'm sorry I wasn't here for you. But, even though you were killed in an explosion, perhaps it was better that you were. Kommandant Scheider planned on having you killed by two of your own men. And if they couldn't do the job, he was gonna send you to a concentration camp. Kinch is sick in the cooler, Newkirk has been crippled, and LeBeau is scared, bitter and angry. And the operation you built and gave your life to was destroyed. I should have been here for you, Colonel. I should have been here." He stopped as he felt somebody just behind him. He looked over his shoulder and saw a young private standing there with a small bouquet of flowers.

"Hi," Carter said softly. "I'm Andrew. What's your name?"

The young private knelt down and laid the flowers on Hogan's grave. "My name's Lyle. Lyle Bingham. I didn't mean to overhear you. Really I didn't. Did you know Colonel Hogan?"

"Yeah," Carter replied. "He was the greatest commanding officer a guy could have. They don't make them like the Colonel anymore."

"Wish I had gotten to know him. But he was deceased just before I got here." Bingham clasped his hands similar to Carter, and periodically glanced over his shoulder.

"Something wrong, Lyle?"

"Well, Kommandant Scheider doesn't like it when prisoners come here to pay respects to Colonel Hogan. He says it's a waste of time. I heard he's even thinking of digging up the prisoner cemetery and disposing of the bodies buried in it, including Colonel Hogan's."

'He can't do that!" Carter shouted in disbelief. "The Geneva Convention says… "

"Scheider doesn't care about the Geneva Convention. I hear he's promised to call in the Gestapo if the prisoners try and stop him from having the bodies removed."

Carter sadly shook his head. He couldn't believe what he was hearing. The thought of Colonel Hogan's body being destroyed by the Germans was too much to stomach.

"What was he like?" asked Bingham softly.

"Who? Colonel Hogan?" Carter saw the younger man nod. "Well, the men under his command always came first with him. The previous Kommandant, Colonel Wilhelm Klink, always gave in to Colonel Hogan when he negotiated with him. He never asked for anything for himself; it was all about the men. He was always willing to listen to anybody who came to him with a problem or just needed someone to talk to. The men under him were important to him. He always said he would give his life to protect those under his command."

"That's how I imagined him to be," Bingham replied. "The way things are now is how they were when I arrived. Now we don't have a Senior officer to fight for us, and we're at the mercy of men like Scheider and Baldry, and bullies like Sergeants Olsen and Baker." He let out a deep breath. "Now we have nobody." Bingham crossed himself and got up. "Bye, Andrew. It was nice talking with you."

"You're welcome. And thanks for putting those flowers on Colonel Hogan's grave. I'm sure he appreciates it."

"I hope so," Bingham added. "It's the least I could do as I never got a chance to meet him. He sounds like he was a terrific guy. Bye, Andrew." Bingham then walked away as Carter watched his receding back before turning back to look at the wooden cross. After saying a silent prayer, Carter crossed himself and slowly got to his feet. He looked up when Larry approached and stuffed his hands in his pockets.

"I wish you could've known Colonel Hogan, Larry. He was really a great commanding officer. Never thought about himself."

Larry looked at the makeshift headstone. "He sounds like a fine man and that he meant a great deal to you."

"He does…I mean he did. I don't know what I'm gonna do without him here. I simply existed before I met the Colonel. He gave me a purpose, direction. He took me under his wing so to speak."

"I can tell you with definite assurance, Andrew, that Colonel Hogan more than likely got his wings as soon as he got to heaven."

"You think so?"

"I'm pretty positive." The angel studied Carter who looked like he had something on his mind. "What's wrong Carter?"

"I want to live," he said. "I was wrong to think I couldn't make a difference. I want to go back. I need to go back. Please, Larry. Send me back. I have to go back to my friends. I have to go back and keep all this from happening."

* * *

"Carter, wake up! Wake up Carter!" somebody said shaking the young sergeant's shoulder.

"I have to go back," Carter muttered still sleeping. "I need to go back. I need to go back."

"Carter, wake up! You're dreaming! Now wake up!"

Carter slowly raised his head from the table top and rubbed his sleepy eyes with both fists and then sat up, looking around. His eyes finally fell on Colonel Hogan. "COLONEL! You're alive!" He jumped up and grabbed Hogan by both arms, needing the physical contact to make sure Hogan was for real. "You're here! You're really here!"

"Where else would he be, Andrew?" asked Kinch, amused.

Carter, releasing Hogan turned and wrapped his arms around the radioman in a bear hug, "Thank God, Kinch you're all right. You had me really scared after I left you in the cooler." Kinch and Hogan looked at each other, puzzled. Hogan shrugged.

"Andre," LeBeau said from just behind Hogan. "You are acting very strange for somebody who has been sleeping for several hours."

"LeBeau! Boy, am I glad to see you!" Carter, releasing Kinch, approached LeBeau who stepped back.

"Stay away from me, mon ami," he said. "Or I'll hit you with my strudel pan!"

"Yeah, and ole Schultzie wouldn't like it one bit," a familiar voice said. Carter turned and smiled broadly when he noticed Newkirk, awake, sitting up in bed."

"Newkirk, you're awake!" he exclaimed.

"Carter, no need to yell. I already have a bleedin' headache and you're makin' it worse."

The young sergeant sat down on the edge of the bed, gripping his friend's shoulders and gave them a squeeze.

"When did you wake up? Wilson said you were in a coma and didn't think there was a good chance you'd ever wake up."

"Carter, you're talkin' to me, aren't you? Then I must be awake." Newkirk rolled his eyes in exasperation.

"Boy, what a dream!" Carter told the others getting up from the bed and sitting back at the table. LeBeau handed him a cup of hot coffee. "It seemed so real." He looked around at his friends. "All you guys were in it. It was horrible!" He took a sip of coffee.

Kinch and LeBeau sat on the bench facing Newkirk's bed while Hogan put one foot on the bench and rested his arms on his bent knee. He too, had a cup of coffee.

"Want to tell us about it, Carter?" Hogan asked.

"I'm not sure, sir. You'll all just laugh."

"We promise we won't laugh. Right fellas?" Hogan gave everybody 'the look.'

"We promise, Colonel," chimed in LeBeau. Kinch agreed.

"Besides, Carter," Newkirk began getting comfortable in bed. "I haven't been told a good bedtime story since me mum used to when I was a wee tyke growing up in London." There was a touch of sarcasm in his voice.


	6. Chapter 6Bells and Wings

**Chapter 6**---**Bells and Wings**

"That was some dream, Andrew," Kinch remarked with a grin after Carter had completed telling them his dream.

"Now let's see if I understand this correctly," Newkirk said. "You fell asleep and woke up with some strange little man who claimed he was your Guardian Angel and his name was Larry. He showed you what life was like at Stalag 13 all because you weren't ever here. First the Gov'nor was killed by a homemade bomb; then Klink and Schultz were sent to the Russian front and a bloody Kraut named Scheider replaced Klink and some bloke named Baldry replaced Schultzie. Kinch was put in the cooler and became sick. Me, your best mate, had me hands broken, was shot in the knee and became crippled, while Louie here became angry, cowed and bitter. Do I have thing right?"

"Umm-hmm. That's pretty much everything," Carter agreed.

"Well, that cinches it then, mates."

"How so?" asked LeBeau, puzzled.

"Our friend Carter here has finally gone crackers just as I always knew he would."

"Yeah? Well you wouldn't think it so funny if you felt you were responsible for injuring your best friend, and that the team would be better off without you, and that you wish you had never been born," Carter replied, pouting.

"I guess I might not at that, Carter," Newkirk said. "Now if you'll excuse me, gentlemen. I really need to get some sleep, so I'll say goodnight." He then turned over pulling the thin blanket up over his shoulders.

Hogan chuckled at the brief exchange between his sergeant and corporal as he removed his foot from the bench. He finished his coffee and checked his watch. "I think Newkirk's got the right idea, fellas. We've got about four hours before roll call, so I suggest we all turn in and get some sleep. Goodnight." Putting the now empty coffee mug on the table he turned and headed towards his quarters to a chorus of 'good night, Colonel,' ''night, Gov'nor,' and 'good night mon Colonel,' ringing in his ears. Going inside, he closed the door and switched on the desk lamp; it's light seen under the bottom of the door by those in the outer room. After about ten minutes, the light at the bottom of Hogan's door went out.

Carter, having climbed up to the top bunk where Newkirk usually slept, tried getting settled in the top bunk. He thought about his dream and what he had seen and learned. It was so real to him; as was Larry his Guardian Angel.

"Pssst! Hey, Carter!" whispered a voice from below. Carter leaned over the edge of the top bunk and peered down. He saw Newkirk looking up at him.

"You okay, Newkirk? You need anything?" he asked in a soft voice so as not to awaken the others.

"No," Newkirk replied looking up. "I just wanted to say thanks for worrying 'bout me, The Colonel told me you refused to leave me side after I was brought back here. Blamed yourself you did. I just wanted to say don't blame yourself as you weren't responsible. And as for the other thing…" he allowed a tiny smile to appear. "Thanks mate, for caring."

Carter smiled at his friend. "You're welcome. Now get some sleep and I'll see you in the morning."

Newkirk chuckled as he turned over. "Yes, mum," he muttered softly but loud enough for Carter to hear. The young sergeant chuckled as sleep soon overcame him.

* * *

Morning came too soon for the prisoners of barracks two. The moment a somewhat cheerful Sergeant Schultz burst through the barracks door and loudly announced roll call, the grumbling started.

"Blimey, Schultzie, can't you say good mornin' like a normal person?" asked Newkirk tiredly.

"You expect someone abnormal to be normal?" asked LeBeau who, after jumping down from his top bunk, put the water on for the coffee. He looked around as Newkirk slowly sat up on the bed.

"If you boys didn't spend so much time on monkey business, you wouldn't be so tired in the morning," Schultz replied with a knowing smirk.

"Monkey business?" asked Carter as he climbed down from the bunk above Newkirk's. "What monkey business" I haven't seen any monkeys around here lately." He looked at Kinch. "Have you, Kinch?"

"Not since Freddy was here," the radioman replied. (1)

Newkirk slowly got to his feet and staggered. He gripped the edge of the bed frame to keep from falling as a wave of dizziness overtook him. Carter and LeBeau were both by his side immediately and holding him up, gently eased him back to a sitting position on the bed.

"What's wrong with him?" Schultz asked, worried.

"Drank too much," Carter said innocently.

"Drank? Drank what?" asked a confused Schultz.

"Champagne. What else could it be?" said LeBeau.

"Oh, well, that's all right…wait a minute! Where did you get champagne? No, don't tell me! I don't want to know. I know noth-ing. Noth-ing! Just everybody outside for roll call." He closed the door and waited for the prisoners to emerge and stand in formation.

The door opened, and slowly, tired and sleepy prisoners emerged from inside and walked out into the early morning air. Even the slight chill in the air didn't wake anybody up. Hogan and LeBeau each held Newkirk up with a grip on his elbows until they reached his spot in the front row between LeBeau and Hogan.

"Think you can hang in until Klink finishes boring everybody?" Hogan asked softly.

"I can make it, Colonel," Newkirk promised. "At least the chilly air should help."

Hogan zipped his jacket completely up and raised the collar against the blowing breeze. "If I see he's starting to get his second wind, I head him off at the pass."

"That would be appreciated even without a concussion, sir."

Schultz began his count. "Einer, zwei, drei, vier, funf, sechs, sieben, acht. neun, zehn, elf, zwolf, prizemen, vierzehen, funfzehen." He was counting on his fingers at the same time.

"Schuuuuuuultz! Repooooooooort!" Klink's booming voice shattered the early morning silence. He and Schultz exchanged salutes.

"Herr Kommandant, all prisoners present and accounted for."

"Excellent." Klink stood before the prisoners with a grin on his face. "Prisoners, I have an announcement to make."

"You're surrendering, sir?" asked Hogan innocently. That brought chuckles and laughter from the men.

"Colonel Hogan, you will refrain from making remarks!" Klink waved a fist at the American. "Now, as I was saying, I have an announcement to make."

"I bet I know what it is, Kommandant," Hogan interrupted. "Old scramble brains is selling Berchtesgaden. I do hope he offered you a fair price for it, sir. I mean after all, it's used property. Probably in need of repairs."

"Well, I mean our beloved Fuhrer has….Hogaaaaaaan! I'm warning you! One more comment from you and you'll get thirty days in the cooler! Understood?"

Carter, standing between Kinch and Olsen in the back row continued listening to his Colonel and Klink go back and forth and knew things were back to normal. With hands jammed inside his jacket pockets to keep them warm, He let out a deep breath. _It feels so good to be alive! Alive and with my friends!_

Suddenly Carter heard the tinkling of bells from above. Looking up at the heavens, Carter allowed a wide smile to appear. "Attaboy, Larry," he said softly. He suddenly noticed Kinch staring at him oddly. He looked at the radioman.

"Carter, who are you talking to?" he asked.

"Uh, just speaking out loud."

Kinch looked sideways at the young sergeant and shook his head.

Meanwhile, Carter smiled again, eyes looking up at the heavens above and winked.

_Yessiree, it's good to be alive!_

**The End**

_

* * *

_(1)Freddy was the chimp from the episode Monkey Business, Season 3.


End file.
